


Whump-tober 2019 Transformers

by scribble_scatter



Category: Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Medieval, Alternate Universe - Slavery, Animal Death, Fear of doctors, Hacking, M/M, Slavery
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-04
Updated: 2019-11-20
Packaged: 2020-11-23 08:29:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,003
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20889134
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scribble_scatter/pseuds/scribble_scatter
Summary: Whumbtober Prompts! Mainly Prowl/Jazz, but maybe more?





	1. Shakey Hands

The slaves-master's servos shook. Well technically his whole body shook, but Prowl's attention was on his servos. That held a whip. Which hurt. " Who was it slave. Who sparked you up!" The looming Iaconian demanded flicking the whip forward striking Prowl across the face.

The kneeling Praxian snarled, but otherwise remained silent. He would not give Jazz up, the agent would be put to death. And he would not see his lover killed. The surrounding slaves began to murmer about Prowl's defiance, causing the copper armoured slaver to growl angerly and bring his whip down again. "Tell me slave, or your in for a pit of a night."

Prowl glared his unmatched optics, one icey blue the other flaming yellow, sparking with contempt. The slave-master surged forward grabbing Prowl by the collar of his chassis, the Praxian helpless to defend himself due to the inhibitor-claw firmly clamped to his back. " You are a slave. You belong to me, and if I wanted to breed you I would have."

"He don't belong to no one." A new voice suddenly rumbled, causing the Iaconian to drop Prowl and spin around throwing his whip out.

The newcomer, a blue visored Polyhexan, didn't flinch, just brought his arm up so the whip wrapped around his wrist. With a smirk that revealed a hint of fang, the newcomer pulled his arm back, effectively yanking the whip from the slave-master's grasp.

Blue optics wide the slave master frantically tried to comm for back up, receiving only static. Seeing his struggle, newcomer's grin grew even more nasty. " Ya can try, but'cha you won't get through. Made sure of that."

The copper mech stumbled backwards falling on his aft as he desperately searched for an escape. "What do you want!" His voice cracked with a whine.

"The code to release tha inhibitor-claw." The sliver and black Polyhexan said darkly.

In fear for his life the Iaconian rattled of a list of codes, " there that good?"

The newcomer tilted his head as if thinking hard before diving forward to grab the slaver by the throat. "I think not."

With obvious skill the Polyhexan slipped a dagger in between the Iaconian's armour severing a major line and let the slave-master clank to the ground. " That's for my mate."

As soon as the slave-master faded the newcomer's sneer slipped from his face, replaced by a worried frown as he rushed to Prowl's side. The Praxian had fell forward on his chest as soon as the threat of the slave-master was gone.

" Jazz?" Prowl whined weakly, trying to lift his helm.

"Shh, love. I gotcha." Jazz said smoothly as he unclamped the inhibitor-claw and pulled Prowl into his lap.

"I thought..."

Jazz shushed him. " I was extracted. With enough information to bust this place. "Tha Prime's mechs are already rounding up the slavers."

"That's good." The tired Praxian muttered, his duo optics dimming.

Jazz chuckled softly, pressing a quick kiss to Prowl's fore-helm. " Yeah Prowler, it was."

Jazz held his beloved, rubbing comforting circles on his back, right up until the medics came over to check the Praxian.


	2. Explosion

*Hurry boss. We don't got much time before the whole place blows* Jazz comm buzzed in his audio.

"I know, I know. Give me a klick, I hav' to take care of that slaggin' AI." The visored mech chirped back as he jacked into the glitching and sparking console.

He really didn't have time for this but if he didn't get rid of the AI Program now. He wouldn't get another chance before the Decepticons hid it again. This AI was chewing up and spitting out the Autobots, seemingly knowing every move before they could even get the troops out. So with a snarl Jazz dived into the coding working his way deeper into programing battling traps and viruses. He came across the file he was searching for, KP0R1. He tried to open it only to be met with a huge blazing firewall. (I) You have ten klicks to cease or be disposed of (I)

"O really." Jazz snarked, carefully hiding his shock at the very mech-like feel of the AI against his own processor.

(I) Yes. (I) Was the simple answer.

"Cute, but'cha caused alot ah problems lately and this is will be the end of the line for yah. " Jazz said smoothly releasing a virus code only to watch in morbid fascination as it was 'caught' by an unseen figure and methodically torn apart.

(I) 5 klicks to cease (l)

Jazz ingnored the program in favor of cursing up a storm. " That was my best viruse!"

*Boss hurry! You got 3 breams to get out.*

"I'm a little busy right now!" Jazz spat back through his comm as he continued his mental wrestle with the AI.

(I) 3 klicks (I) The program warned again.

"Yeah, yeah." The Polyhexan said with a smirk as he attacked the AI's firewall, only to be sent to his knees by an electric surge that coursed through his frame.

(I) Your time is up. Last warning. (I) That's when the screen above the console lit up with two white glowing optics.

"Ok. This is getting weirder and weirder."

The optics blinked. And the room shook.

"Ok, Mister Program yah going down now, cause there just went tha first bomb."

Jazz continued his mental attack whilst tearing into the console with his clawed servos. The optics on the screen narrowed as the the program began dismantling his attacks one by one but a few still got through and damaged the firewalls. With a grin Jazz pulled back the computer's plating and shoved a few wires about revealing the console's power core. "Heh, heh. Gotcha!" Jazz snickered has he reached forward to close his fist around the core.

The white optics on the screen widened. (I) Wait, don- (I)

It was to late, Jazz closed his servo. A surge shot up his arm and straight to his spark, he could still feel the program against his mind as his body convulsed in what felt like one of the best overloads he'd ever had. Distantly he noted that the optics flashed once, twice before disappearing. As he fought the charge shooting through his body he reached forward and yanked himself free from the console. Then with a flash and a large thunderous boom the room exploded.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So can anyone guess who the AI Program is? Hmmmm. Anyone?


	3. Delirium

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Still Whump-tober just really late. It's not super whumpy though.

The loud hissing shriek that rang through the hallway sounded more worthy of a Seeker then the small Praxian that had spat it out. And Ratchet was not in the mood to deal with this. The destruction of Praxis had left his med-bay full, and the Chief Medic wouldn't even be dealing with this if the current Praxian clinging to the door frame wasn't so severely fragged up. Ratchet pulled harshly on the black and white mech, "get in here you slagging idiot!" All he received was a snarl.

The Praxian was badly damaged and covered in energon. He had lacerations covering his heavily tattooed protoform and his armor was in ruins. And from the way he moved Ratchet was certain he had broken several supports. The worst injury, especially for a Praxian, were his doorwings. Both sensory panels were completely shredded and at least one was dislocated. " If you don't calm down and let me help you. I will sedate you." Ratchet warned his patient.

The Praxian stilled going limp in the medics arms with a whimper. Ratchet sighed loosening his hold to more comfortably carry the wounded mech. Ratchet began to turn to go back into his med-bay when his patient twisted out of his grasp and half scurried half rolled to the far side of the hallway. Landing in a defensive crouch, his shredded doorwings tucked behind him the Praxian snarled. " I will not enter that med-bay Medic. I am not broken and do not need to be decommissioned."

Ratchet stared in shock, " decommissioned? What- I just want to help you!"

The medic started forward, the Praxian pushed himself against the wall fearfully, his mismatched optics whiting out with panic. Ratchet practically loomed over the much smaller mech and as he reached forward and clamped a servo around one of the others wrist, the smaller mech slashed out with his claws blindly. Ratchet leaned back as the claws swishing through the air a hair from his olfact, with a grunt the medic grabbed the other wrist securing the delirious mech from lashing out again.

The black armoured mech struggled fiercely, but he was extremely weakened and was unable to pull free of the medic. With one last tug the trapped mech threw his helm back and let out a tragic, audio-piercing, animal like yowl. Before slumping to his knees and continuing his helpless fight to get free. Ratchet frowned but the medic held the Praxian tighter about to pull him up fully into his arms, just as the Specs Ops' top profiler (a Praxian himself), Smokescreen came sprinting around the corner. " Let him go." The mech said calmly, the flare of his brightly colored armor the only sign of his distress.

" No. I need to tend to his injuries." Ratchet said sternly still holding tightly to his struggling patient. 

" I know Ratchet, but he won't let you till he's calmed down. My brother has been through a lot and he doesn't trust medical personnel." Smokescreen strode forward to stand in front of Ratchet, servos on his hips, doorwings spread threateningly.

Ratchet met the Op's agents stare with glare of his own, before slowly releasing the black and white mech from his grip. The Praxian scrambled back his broken body moving awkwardly, but before he could get anywhere Smokescreen stepped forward and embraced the smaller Praxian. The profiler murmered something in what sounded like Praxian rubbing soothing circles in his brothers back. The panicked Praxian slowly calmed down, clinging to Smokescreen hard enough to leave dents in his armor. The two brothers continued to share soft words in what Ratchet could only guess was a language.

"This is your brother?" Ratchet asked slowly inching forward running a subtle scan over the now calm-ish mech. When all he got was a wing twitch, he started carefully taking vitals.  
Smokescreen looked up at him warily." Yeah, he is." 

Ratchet nodded. After noting down vitals he pulled a clean cloth out of his subspace to gently wipe away all the spilt energon. " What's his name?" The medic asked gently.

Smokescreen hesitated his optics dropping to the floor. "It's- his name is Prowl."

Ratchet froze for a klick before continuing to do minor repairs on the wounded mech, eyes carefully focused on his patient. " Prowl? As in second lieutenant for the late Sentinal Prime? One of the two high ranking mechs that went AWOL and disappeared and hasn't been seen for three vorns. That Prowl is your brother?"

Smokescreen vented deeply, gaze still intently on the floor. "Yep. That very one."

Ratchet scrutinized Smokescreen. The Ops agent glared back, " later Ratch. Later."

Ratchet rolled his optics and changed the subject. " Did you feel him through your bond. Is that how you knew he was here?"

Smokescreen nodded, "it was the first time he's had it open in vorns, plus on the way down I heard him start yowling. It's practically a Praxian distress call."

"Huh," was Ratchet's answer.

Finishing up minor repairs Ratchet prodded a spot on his patient's neck knocking him cold, " he's asleep. Could you carry him into the bay so I can do the major repairs."

"Yeah, of course." 

Standing up they walked back across the hallway and into the med-bay. First Aid, Ratchet's apprentice, was watching them with wide optics. " Is everything ok Sir?"

Ratchet smiled wearily," it's fine Aid, just had a runner."

"Ok, if you say so." 

Stoping at an empty medical berth the medic stepped back allowing Smokescreen to gently set his brother down. "Hey, Ratchet?" He said stepping back.

Ratchet started flipping on machines and attaching spark monitors. " Yeah, Smokey." 

" Prowl's bond-mates was the other lieutenant who went AWOL, he wouldn't have just let Prowl get taken up by the Rescue teams. And since Prowl's spark's still strong, I bet he's still alive. And that means he'll be coming for my brother, probably even less same then we just saw Prowl."

Ratchet paused. " You mean we might have another crazy mech burst into my Med-bay?"

Smokescreen met the medic's optics with a serious stare. " That's exactly what I'm saying."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can you guess who might be coming for Prowler?


	4. Human Sheild

Jazz stayed on his charge's heels, as he navigated the over-crowded market place. The abundance mecha was making even him nervous so there was definitely no doubt it was overwhelming Prowl. The small black armoured Praxian wouldn't even be out here if he had a say, but the Prime was the boss. Not Jazz. And Jazz had more than a few choice words to share with Sentinel. "Hey, Prowler?" The visored Polyhexan said reaching out to grab Prowl's bicep.

The heavily tattooed mech paused without turning," Yeah, Jazz?"

"You ok, love?" 

"Uh, huh?" Was the distracted response the guardsmech got from his charge.

"You sure," he said once more, pulling Prowl around to more fully face him.

The head-servent sighed tracing the oriental tattoos on his partners arm, " I'm fine Jazz, just a bit... stressed." 

Jazz opened his mouth to respond when a loud shout sounded from the far side of the Town Square. Both he and Prowl spun toward the sound servos hovering over the swords strapped to their back (or in Prowl's case hip). Jazz gaped, "Wha' tha frag?!" 

A group of large and intimidating mecha were charging though the crowd headed directly toward them. Prowl groaned beside him and Jazz chuckled at his lover's expense. "This can't be good." 

Prowl glared at him. "You think." He hissed, sensory panels twitching in annoyance, as he and Jazz made a run for it. 

The Polyhexan rolled his optics behind his visor, " you worry to much."

Prowl growled, " save it till we get to the equininoids." 

They had left their steeds tied at a stand on the edges of the square, not wanting to draw extra attention as the traversed the market, and both mechs were beginning to regret it. Especially as an arrow whizzed by, narrowly missing both their helms. 

They twisted, turned, and ducked, dodging around the other market goers. Ignoring the loud and angry shouts gaining on them. Finally they reached their mounts, the Equininoids ( both a regal silver) stood right were they left them, tied to a post. Prowl gracefully scaled and mounted his steed, Jazz untied both animals and effortlessly climbed aboard his own equine. With two quick kicks and a small sharp yip (courtesy of Jazz) the two were off. Charging down an alley.  
" What was up with those mechs?" Jazz called over his shoulder as he and Prowl made their daring escape.

"Probably just ticked off at the Prime for one reason or another, and decided to attack the first mecha they see that's has the Primal Vanguard insignia." His lover responded with a deep vent and a dry tone. 

Jazz snorted. " Should have picked easier targets."

Several arrows whizzed out of nowhere striking Jazz in his unarmored bicep and in his mounts side. "Slag," the guardsmech cursed instinctually yanking on his equine's reins as the steed staggered to the side, with a loud neighing cry.

Equine and rider went down with only an angered shout from the Polyhexan and a panicked snort from equine. Jazz was faintly aware of Prowl's own pained yowl as he hit the ground. With quite an effort Jazz stood, snapped the shaft of the arrow off ( pulling it out could risk more damage) and glanced at his partner. The Praxian was kneeling having also been hit, two arrows stuck through a sensory panel and a scrape along his thigh were another projectile had grazed him. "You good?" The Polyhexan grunted out.

"Functioning. But the equines not so much."

Prowl's equine was deathly still, several arrows piercing their chest while Jazz's own mount was venting laboriously, still alive having only been hit once. Jazz sighed. "Sorry ole pal, you carried me far." 

Jazz drew his sword and carefully slit his steeds throat effectively putting them out of their misery. Sheathing his sword he limped to Prowl's side pulling the smaller mech to his peds. The Praxian lost his balance tilting to the side with a hiss. " Slag it. With my Sensory Panel out my balance has been shot to the pit."

Jazz grin lacked humor, " I can see that, love."

Looping his arm around his charge's waist Jazz started down the alley way again warily watching the building tops for more archers. Prowl was silent beside him except for the pained grunts and hisses that would occasionally escape the small mech. " We really are fragged aren't we?" 

Prowl snorted." No. Really?"

Jazz rolled his optics behind his visor. " We got no transportation. We're most likely surrounded by archers, and we're both injured."

"Don't remind me."

"And to top it off, we aren't expected back at the palace till sundown." Jazz muttered, he was starting to feel tired his limbs were dragging and his helm was foggy, Prowl didn't seem so coherent either. 

" Who said you were expected back at the palace at all?" A thin, tall, copper armoured mech said as he rounded the corner, he held an armed bow firmly in his servos.

Jazz's deep growl rumbled throughout the narrow alley accompanied by Prowl's higher pitched but just as threatening hiss. The Polyhexan pulled his partner behind him using himself as a living shield. 

"Don't work," the newcomer said smugly, " you don't need to be back to the palace anytime soon.  
Jazz's felt his limbs slowly stop responding at the same time that he heard Prowl thump to the ground behind him. With on last spark chilling glare the Polyhexan slumped to the ground unconscious.

The copper armoured mech smirked stalking forward to kick at the fallen guardsmech's arm. "The Prime is surely glad to be rid of you."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: A medieval times Au? Guess so. So um, Cybertronians can't transform yet (except beast-modes) so that why they needed horses. Equininoids = Horses
> 
> By the way the animal killing in this fic was merciful not evil. I hope that makes since?


End file.
